Lost Kite
How often have I cried
To hold that orange and green colored kite
In my tiny hands
And let it shore higher up in the air
Gently gliding, furiously spinning
Zig-zag, zig-zag, further away from me
Becoming smaller and smaller
Till the thread could hold no more.
Hour 17
@varenyas
Lovely imagery in this. It’s easy to see the kid’s heart lift while flying the kite and then get lost losing it. Builds a fragile and tenuous connection between us and our joys.
“Till the thread could hold no more”
Bittersweet. Well done.
Thank You. Lovely interpretation. Your words are so encouraging.